


The Other Woman

by SilverSun



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Greg has no sympathy, John is the Wife, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSun/pseuds/SilverSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Greg discuss Sherlock over drinks. John realizes something about himself he could have done without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Woman

**Author's Note:**

> It came to me in a dream! Posted this on tumblr, thought I might stick it here.

It was a rare, calm, Friday evening that allowed Greg Lestrade and John Watson to sit across from one another in a poorly lit, seedy pub at the end of Baker Street. Sherlock had been absolutely miserable the past three days and the two men had silently agreed to leave their phones off for the night. Somehow though, for all their avoidance, he still managed to become the focus of conversation.

“You know, it’s no wonder people think he isn’t human. I’ve known the man ten years and not once have I seen him eat. Not even a snack.” Lestrade griped between sips of his beer.

“I know what you mean. He told me once that digestion slows his mind. I usually have to wait until he’s preoccupied and put the food right in to his hand. It actually happens more often than you’d think.”

Lestrade snorted in to his drink. “Ever the Doctor eh?”

John laughed. “I suppose so. He certainly won’t go to a clinic for anything. Remember last Spring when he was pushed in to the Thames and got pneumonia? I had to prescribe antibiotics for him myself. And he’s horribly needy when he’s sick. I had to sit up with him most nights and read to him so that his brain ‘quote’ wouldn’t liquify and pour right out if his skull.” The large grin on Lestrade’s face was not the sympathy he had been looking for.

“I can actually imagine that. My wife was always worse when she was on the mend. Too sick to do anything useful, but not sick enough to sleep through it.” John cringed at a new memory.

“I made the mistake of locking away the more dangerous chemicals for that very reason. He decided to experiment on the food in the kitchen instead. It took me the better part of three hours to scrape the syrup off the ceiling. I still don’t know how it got up there.” Lestrade’s laughter met his across the table and the memory didn’t seem quite so bad.

“He got really lucky with you mate. You don’t just put up with him. You cook for him and clean for him. You look after him when he’s sick…you look after him when he’s not. I didn’t think there was anyone out there that could put up with it.” The stricken look on John’s face made him pause. Here he thought he’d been complimenting him.

“Oh god.” John Moaned. “You’re right. I cook, I clean, I look after him, in sickness and in health, you practically said it yourself, I’m his bloody wife!” John looked so horrified that Lestrade couldn’t help the guffaw that escaped if he’d tried.

“I thought Sherlock was married to his work.” This just seemed to make things worse as John dropped his head in to his arms despondently. Lestrade could just make out the, “Oh god, I’m the other woman!” and it sent him off once more in to hysterics.

It was weeks before John could look Sherlock in the eye again. Though he continued on just as he had been.


End file.
